


Gang War

by Queen_Valkyrie



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Gang Violence, Team Gents - Freeform, Team Lads, fem!Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Valkyrie/pseuds/Queen_Valkyrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fake AH Crew wasn't always one crew.<br/>They used to be two separate crews, the Lads and the Gents, until a spray-paint turf war escalates into something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gang War

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I've kind of broken my own rules of the collection with this story, but fuck it, I had fun writing it and I think it's good.  
> This isn't an Immortal Fake AH Crew story, and hence isn't a part of the canon for my Immortal Fake AH Crew series. This isn't how the Fake AH Crew got together in the canon of my series (which I've established in Snapshots).  
> What is is, however, is inspired by a post I saw on tumblr.  
> It's just fun.  
> I dunno.  
> Hope you guys enjoy!

Los Santos, California.

2012.

The city was in the midst of the biggest turf war California had ever seen. Gangs all over were tagging buildings, streets, concrete, anything with their emblems so they could claim the area as their own.

And in the city, between Cobalt Lane and Fifth Street, there was a big empty wall right in the middle of the section of blocks that was up for grabs.

Geoff Ramsey was determined to claim it.

Rummaging through the cupboards of his shoddy apartment, he felt his tattooed hands touch the cold metal of the spray paint cans, and his face broke into a wide grin.

Spray paint in hand, he rushed out of his apartment and onto his motorcycle, revving up the engine and speeding towards the wall.

It was still blank when he got there, and after parking his bike, he shook the cans of paint vigorously.

He coated the wall in black and sat for a few minutes, waiting for it to dry, before he broke out the white paint.

His strokes short and sharp, he painted his crew’s logo, the top hat and the monocle and the mustache, and underneath, in overly-fancy cursive, he painted _Gents_.

After a long pause to admire his work, he seated himself once more on his bike and drove home, feeling like the king of Los Santos.

The next day, he hijacked a parked car outside his apartment building, tossed the spray paint in the shotgun seat (planning to add a little embellishment after he introduced his work to his crewmates) and drove over to the safe house where his fellow crew members, Jack and Ryan were staying.

His knuckles rapped sharply on the door, and Jack opened, her fiery red hair disheveled and her hazel eyes annoyed.

“Can I help you?”

He grinned at his right-hand and replied, “Get Ryan. I’ve got something cool to show you guys.”

She groaned and shut the door in his face, returning a few minutes later with Ryan, The Vagabond, their blond-haired, blue-eyed, charming-dad-looking mercenary.

“This better be good,” he complained, opening the back door of Geoff’s stolen car and flopping into the seats, attempting to curl up into the itchy fabric.

“Where are we headed, anyway?” Jack asked, attempting to fix the rat’s nest that was her hair.

“You remember that empty wall between Cobalt and Fifth?”

She hummed in reply.

“Well it’s not empty anymore,” he grinned triumphantly.

“You finally claimed territory?” Ryan asked, perking up.

“Hell yeah I did.”

“About damn time,” the mercenary commented, a smile creeping across his face.

But as Geoff pulled up to the wall, he saw something infuriating.

He slammed the door shut and stared at the cinder blocks, which were currently displaying the biggest, most belligerent “fuck you” anyone could have ever pulled.

His logo was painted over.

The black wall was coated instead with a steely gray, and where his logo had been, there was a mockery, an abomination.

It was a flat cap, and underneath a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. Where Geoff’s mustache had been, there was a bowtie, and underneath, in the same black as the new logo, in a shitty imitation of Geoff’s perfect cursive, someone had sprayed the word _Lads_.

He let out a low growl. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

With a huff of fury, he snatched his own spray paint out of the car, and covered the wall in black again, splashing the white logo of his Gents onto the cinder blocks’ dark canvas.

Jack was silent as he completed his work, but Ryan was softly chuckling, his low voice bouncing off the walls of the alley.

“There we go,” Geoff muttered as he finished the word _Gents_ with a flourish. His hands on his hips, he nodded curtly and slid back into the car, tossing the now-empty spray paint cans into Jack’s lap.

“Thanks,” she quipped at him, raising one red eyebrow.

He gave her a thumbs-up in reply, dark blue eyes focused on the road.

Though he would never admit it to Jack or Ryan, he was honestly a little impressed with the Lads’ gall despite himself.

Only a little bit, though.

Mostly, he was pissed off.  
……….

The next day, Geoff and Jack went to the Home Depot and bought a couple cans of spray paint (the typical black-and-white along with a few other colors, courtesy of Jack)-- prepared for the crew of Lads to have painted over Geoff’s beautiful logo again.

They weren’t wrong. But they weren’t entirely right either.

When they both hopped on the mustached Gent’s motorcycle and drove over to the wall, his logo was still there, but it was violated, and the Lads’ logo was painted next to his.

One of the lads (or multiple, he supposed) had taken bright red spray paint and painted a big red X over the Gents' logo, and then surrounded it with glaring red dick doodles.

It was so absurd that Geoff found himself letting out a laugh, a genuine cackle like he hadn’t done in a while, and Jack joined in with high-pitched giggling.

He motioned towards her, “Give me the black and white real quick.”

She placed the metal canisters in his hand and he covered up the red paint, both the X and the dick doodles, and then stood back, wondering what to do to pay the Lads back.

He hummed for a good long three or four seconds before Jack grabbed the blue paint out of the bag and starting spray-painting around the Lads’ logo.

After drawing an outline of the shark from the _Jaws_ movie poster coming up to eat the other crew’s logo, she filled it in with a dark gray and red inside the mouth.

Geoff cackled again as his right-hand woman winked at him, and they both slid onto the motorcycle again and drove off, laughing like two handsome thieves in the night.  
……….

All of the Gents drove over in Geoff’s stolen car the next day to check on the wall, with a bag of assorted colors of spray paint in hand.

The shark was gone, covered up with the gray of the Lads’ background, and there was a giant purple knife stabbing into the Gents’ logo, dark red paint dripping like blood out of the stab wound.

They all chuckled at the knife, but as Geoff took out the black and white to fix his logo, Ryan held him back.

A grin spread across the mercenary’s face. “Let me.”

He grabbed the can of green and painted a laurel wreath over the Lads’ hat, making it look like a classic Greek or Roman senator, and next to the knife, he wrote _Et tu, Bruté?_

Geoff furrowed his dark eyebrows. “What’s that mean?”

“It’s a Shakespeare reference,” Ryan stated, like it was obvious.

Geoff shrugged as the mercenary rolled his eyes. “Whatever. They’ll get it.”  
……….

The wall turned into a sort of game for the two crews.

And it wasn’t malicious, the spray-paint fighting. It was _fun_. More fun than Geoff had had since he started the crew.

He found himself looking forward to walking or riding over to Cobalt and Fifth every day, to check out what new insult the Lads had cooked up for him and his crew.

Ryan and one of the Lads who identified himself as BrownMan had starting a long-standing game of hangman in the corner (currently, Ryan was winning).

The camaraderie almost started to turn into companionship, when the Lads, next to their newest drawing, posted a warning about a police raid all throughout the area of Bittersweet to McKinley.

The Gents give info to the Lads on the hideout of a gang who they know are rivals with the Lads.

But everything changed the day when Geoff went to check out the wall... 

And found nothing.

The paint war had been going on for just over a month now, and there was always something new every day. Every. Single. Day. Even if it was small, the other crew had never missed before.

Geoff tried to play it cool, and figured that all the Lads were probably busy last night and didn’t have time to make their edits. After all, even shitty criminals have lives, right?

But there was a knot starting to twist in his stomach, and something seemed rotten in the state of Los Santos.  
…………

Four days straight passed with no change to the wall.

Geoff was starting to get genuinely worried, and both Jack and Ryan seemed nervous as well.

As was habit, he went to check out the wall, and his fellow Gents both came with him this time.

When they pulled up to the street corner, he felt his stomach drop twenty feet.  
In bright red, covering both logos, was a word painted.

Three little letters.

_S.O.S._

Underneath was an address-- _4201 Colfax Ave._

“Jack, Ryan,” he commanded, “Call anybody you know. I’m heading to the apartment to get extra weapons. Tell them to meet at Colfax. And tell ‘em to prepare for a fight.”

Without another word, he hopped onto his bike and sped away.  
…………  
When he drove up to Colfax, pistols strapped to his legs, a shotgun and a rifle on his shoulders, and Ryan’s favorite rocket launcher across his back, there was already a firefight going on.

On either side of the road there were makeshift barricades, and he saw his Gents crouched behind the barrier closest to him with a crowd of others, and one-by-one they would pop up to fire off a few rounds at the other barricade.

He noticed a couple masked figures next to Ryan’s black skull mask, probably mercenary friends of the Gent’s. Jack was side-by-side with another redheaded girl who Geoff recognized as Lindsay Tuggey, leader of a small crew called Firebird.

He had to assume the three boys next to Lindsay and her crew were the Lads.

He rushed over to an open space between Ryan and Jack, and tossed them the rocket launcher and shotgun, respectively.

Ryan let out an evil-sounding chuckle as he hoisted his rocket launcher onto his shoulder and, right as one of the Lads (with curly, short-cut auburn hair) threw a pair of grenades towards the other barrier, fired. The barricade lit up into flames and smoke, and the Lad shouted something unintelligible over the sound of the explosion.

As the smoke and fire cleared away, a group of rival members rushed towards the Gents’, Lads’, and Firebird’s barricade, and Geoff grabbed a pair of pistols and hoisted himself over the top of the barrier.

He shot one of the guys in the leg and then in the head, and as one of the others raised his gun to shoot Geoff, his head exploded with the force of a bullet.

“Got your back!” a voice with a surprisingly British accent shouted from behind him, and Geoff yelled his thanks.

He noticed the Lad from earlier with the grenades standing back-to-back with Lindsay and one of her guys, a short and stocky bearded brunette.

When Ryan’s pistols ran out of bullets, he grabbed a knife from one of his mercenary friends and started slitting throats.

The final Lad, a scrawny kid in a purple hoodie, holding a hot pink sniper rifle, stayed perched behind the barricade, picking off rival gang members with perfect headshots.  
…………

He wasn’t entirely sure how long the fight lasted, but it seemed both endless and like it was over in a second.

Afterwards, they bid adieu to Ryan’s friends and Firebird.

The Lads glanced at their now properly demolished house and the Brit let out a groan, until Geoff clapped him on the shoulder. “You guys can bunk with us. Come on.”

He and Ryan took the motorcycle, and Jack drove the Lads in Geoff’s stolen car.  
…………  
For the first fifteen minutes or so at the apartment, no one really spoke, everyone cleaning up their wounds and wrapping their injuries with bandages.

That was, until Jack cleared her throat and everyone’s eyes shot to the redhead.

“I guess introductions are underway,” she said. “Jack Pattillo.”

Geoff nodded at the Lads and gave a small smile. “Geoff Ramsey.”

Ryan, who was just in the kitchen washing off his face paint, leaned in, looking once again like a Midwestern dad. “Ryan Haywood.”

The kid in the purple hoodie spoke up first. “I’m Ray Narvaez, Jr. But you guys probably know me as Brownman,” he chuckled.

The Brit broke out into a grin and ruffled his messy, dirty-blonde hair. “Gavin Free.”

“Michael Jones,” the auburn-haired one huffed, wincing at the pain that shuddered up his arm as he bandaged the deep cut in his forearm.

“Hey,” Ryan called from the kitchen, “You guys hungry or anything? Need a beer?”

“You got any nachos?” Ray asked.

Gavin let out a high-pitched laugh. “And the Puerto Rican strikes again!”

Geoff and Jack started laughing with the Brit, and even Michael, who still looked severely pissed off, let a chuckle slip.

A few minutes later, Ryan entered the living room with a huge plate of nachos, which he set in the middle of the floor.

They all dug in, eating in comfort and silence.

But after a few minutes, Michael stopped eating and stared at his nacho, his eyebrows low and furrowed.

“What’s up, Micool?” Gavin asked with a mouthful of food.

“We kicked _ass_ together,” Michael commented, not taking his eyes off his chip.

It took a few seconds, but Geoff got the same idea that the Lad did, and he gave the kid a knowing smile.

“Yeah. Yeah we did.”  
…………

They all six returned to the wall with multiple cans of spray paint, but nobody said a word.

“So what do we put up?” Ray asked.

“That is the question,” Ryan muttered in reply.

Geoff snatched the can of black from the Home Depot bag and covered the wall in black, covering the _S.O.S._ , address, and the previous logos.

Michael grabbed the bright green and painted a circle with four breaks, like the circle around the lock for Xbox Achievements.

Before he could put anything inside the circle, Jack snatched the paint from his hand and painted a green rubber duck, leading to a cackle from Geoff, a facepalm from Michael, and laughs from everyone else.

Gavin rummaged through the bag until he pulled out the white, and underneath the duck logo, painted three words.

FAKE AH CREW


End file.
